The year of ultimate chaos
by Mary Gooby
Summary: Tonks is in danger from Voldemort so she is invited to stay at Hogwarts. When she's seven. She doesn't take any classes, but meets Remus Lupin, her cousin Sirius, Bill Weasley, and an absurd house elf. Longer summary inside. UPDATED with 1893 word chapter
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: My Parents are Annoying me out of my Wits

**Ok, this is the story of Tonks' early life. Since Voldemort's on the rampage and her parents are part of the Order of the Phoenix, she and all the other kids ages 10 and below whose parents are in the Order are invited to stay at Hogwarts where it's safe. And her mum said yes to the invitation. Follow her, her kitten, her diary, and her pink carpetbag through Hogwarts where she meets Remus Lupin (no romance though), Bill Weasley, and an absurd house-elf who wants to be an accountant.**

August 20, 1977, in my room

Wow. This really sucks. No seriously, I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS!!!! HOW COULD THEY DO THIS TO ME!! MY OWN PARENTS!!!!! GRRR……….

Later

Ok, sorry about that. It's just, according to Mum and Dad (a.k.a. Adrom---Wait a second. You're my diary, right? You're supposed to know everything that's happened to me so far in my life, even the stuff that I don't remember, right?...Ok, judging by your blank expression (yes, you can make expressions), I take it you can't. Phooey. This is a major setback in my plans here. I thought I could just pour out all my troubles to you and you'd know what I was saying. Let me guess, you don't even know who Theodore Thomas Tonks is, do you. No, you definitely don't. Ok, FYI, he's my dad. My INSANELY ANNOYING DAD!!!!!! GRRRRR……..

Later later

What is with all these grrs??!!??!! Am I like, losing my mind here? Ok, I'm writing all this pointless waffle. Why don't I actually get to the point here? Oh yeah, because I don't feel like it.

Later later later

Ok, I've been extremely down and angry these past couple of laters, so I'm going to try to be happy and bouncy until I get out of this bad mood! And then I will be happy and bouncy. Yay! (Ooh, look it's working!)

Alright, I, Nymphadora Andromeda Margaret Madeleine Katherine Bethany Eliza Muirgheal Violet Mallory Mary Tonks (no joke, I really do have 34 syllables in my name) am going to tell you about myself. Yay. Go me. I rock. Oh yeah.

Ok, as of May 26, I am seven years old. I was born on May 26, 1970. And yes, I repeated that because right now you're a bit uneducated, diary. No offense or anything. I like jelly slugs, Star Wars, (I know it's Muggle, but isn't it just AWESOME? And I am not even going to tell you what that is. You, my dear, darling diary, should be born with that knowledge. And you know, (wait, of course you don't know) you were actually born yesterday. I'll get into that later, after I'm done listing things.) the color purple, the colors red and gold (GRYFFINDOR!!), the colors yellow and black (HUFFLEPUFF!!), koalas, violets (one of my few middle names I actually like), and basically everything that a normal 7 year old likes.

Ok, about you. My mother, Andromeda----lots of middle names which I don't want to list----Tonks (maiden name: Black. I know, major eeurgh) gave you to me yesterday, under the disguise of "write in this so the next time we see you, we can read it and see all the wonderful things you've been up to!" What she really meant was "I'm not going to let you get away with any pranks while I don't have an eye on you, so I'm making sure that you write in this, and, while I'm at it, I want you to become more girly, because you, Nymphadora Andromeda Margaret Madeleine Katherine Bethany Eliza Muirgheal Violet Mallory Mary Tonks, are a tomboy, and while I'm at it (again), I do wish you would use all those nice pink bows and lace hair ribbons that I got you for your birthday, because they're ever so pretty, and you would look so becoming with them on. And darling, do grow out your hair, I can't believe your father let you get that awful jagged haircut. Oh, it would look so pretty if it was just at your waist, and then maybe we could get you some pretty pink skirts with flowers on them and these nice blouses with little buttons and flouncy……." At which point I would cut her off, because, above all things, I HATE flounces.

Ok, (why do I say that so much? Am I that agreeable?) Here's the catch, the snag, the scoop, the you get the picture. I am going to Hogwarts. When I'm seven. You see, my parents are part of the Order of the Phoenix, and You-Know-Who is looking for them, and the ten billion other people who are part of the Order. Dumbledore, being the guy he is, let all the kids of these people who are under eleven to come to Hogwarts and, well, hang out and live there, I guess, because it's safe. Anyway, I got the invite yesterday, and my mum said right away "She's going Albus, no matter how reluctantly."

And here I am.

It sucks, doesn't it?

Ok, my mum's calling me right now, probably wants me to try on an ancient frilly pink skirt she found in the basement.

Later later later later

Yup, she found the skirt. You know, I unearthed it a couple of years ago and packed it up again, knowing Mum'd make me wear it, but it looks like I didn't pack it deep enough, because she's got it again. She wants me to wear it on September 1st, probably along with a pink shirt with poufy sleeves and lacy socks and pink shoes and some kind of pink lace hair bow.

Later later later later later

Wow, in my last entry my outfit guess was completely 100 right. Aren't I amazing? And aren't I going to be so embarrassed that I'm going to die? You know, if my parents are trying to protect me, they're doing a pretty bad job because they're going to end up murdering me instead. (Sigh) sometimes my parents can be so stupid.

August 24, 1977, in my room

Sorry I haven't written in you for 4 days, my mom's had me packing 24/7. Seriously, she's so picky! "No dear, don't pack that shirt it's too grungy" "Dear, I'm going to dye those pants pink, ok? Really they'd look so adorable on you." "Dearie, I just found the loveliest skirt, look at all the lace…." "Oh, goodness, look at that book, really, I don't want you reading about Roman conquests, why don't you read Little Women?" Oh, it went on forever! Thank goodness you're here, even if you're covered in…….You don't know what you look like, do you? Well, I'll put you in front of a mirror, how about that?

Just a little bit later

Yes, I know, you're covered in lace. White and pink lace. And in the middle of your front it says in dark pink flouncy (eeurghh) letters, Diary. I know, it's not the best cover design. If my friends…….Oh golly I'm depressed.

August 29, 1977, in my room

I can't believe you!!!! WHY did you make me think about the VERY LAST thing I wanted to think about just 6 days before I have to go to Hogwarts as one of those protected people!!!???!!!??? **WHY!!!!?????**

Later

Sorry, I'm not too mad at you anymore. Yes, I know I haven't written in 5 days, but you made me bloody depressed. REAL bloody depressed. You see, I don't HAVE any friends. (Sniff). My only friend I ever had……Well, let's just say You-Know-Who's followers went on a killing rampage and found her family…….Well, you can guess what happened. I haven't even had a good acquaintance. _And_ in two days I'm going to have to wear that girly-girl getup. Man, I am not looking forward to that.

August 30, 1977, Madam Malkin's

I'm in Madam Malkin's robe shop right now. Luckily I've crouched in a corner behind a huge rack of dress robes, so my mother can't come and pester me about pink robes. Yes, she wants me to wear pink robes. With lace. And ruffles. And flounces. I can't believe I'm her kid. Anyway, she sa---OH CRUD!!! She found me. Got to go.

Later, Madam Malkins

She's ringing up the pink robes. And they've got a lace trim. And poufy sleeves! And they're light pink, like a rose! Mum says I'll look like a little flower in them. I say I'll look like a diseased cormorant that stepped in a bucket of paint. I hate cormorants.

Later later, Magical Menagerie

YAY!!!! For the first time in like, a week, I am truly happy! I'm ecstatic!!! My mother said that I need to learn to be responsible (I am though!) so she bought me a kitten! He is the cutest thing on earth!!! He's gray and white and he's got these enormous brown eyes! He looks so innocent! I'm sitting here cooing over him, and you know what? My mom's getting him a pink food dish, and I don't even care! Let her get the pink food dish! Ha ha, I've got the cutest creature on earth! Nothing matters except for him!

September 1, 1977, taxi cab

Ok, I think that this matters. I am sitting in a Muggle taxi wearing an ancient pink frilly skirt, a white blouse with pink buttons and trim, a pink lace headband, white lace socks, and pink shoes with bows on them. Thank goodness I have you and Sammy the kitten (yes, that's his name), otherwise I actually would die. And that was not a joke. And all my other clothes are pink and white. Maybe at Hogwarts I can find someone to change the colors. I wish I could do magic. Oh gosh, we're pulling up at King's Cross. I'd better---HOLY SHOOT!!!

Is she gone?

Oh my gosh, my mother was reading over my shoulder the whole entire time I wrote this! Oh my, now the cab driver is looking at me weirdly. I wonder why? Oops. I was supposed to get out 3 minutes ago. Must fly. On second thought, I don't have a broom, and I'm not Peter Pan. Golly, I wish I had that book. But no, I had to get Anne of Green Gables instead. You know, I think I'll get out now.

Later, Platform 9.75

My mother is talking to someone. I was just able to get you out. Now I'm sitting on my pink trunk next to my pink carpetbag (honestly, what kind of carpet is pink?) with Sammy's pink cage and pink accessories and a pink umbrella on my other side. I'm drowning in a pink sea here. People are walking past and laughing. One person called me "pinky". One person who looked like a first year looked at me and said "Well, I don't feel all that stupid anymore." and walked away. A seventh year came up and said "Are you one of those protected little kids?" When I nodded he just went "Ha ha, sucks to be you!" I feel neglected and insulted.

_Who_ is my mother talking to anyway? Ah, it's my cousin! His name's Sirius. My mother's asking him if he's been eating enough vegetables. Apparently he's been eating chocolate gateau for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Now my mum's fishing around in her handbag. Oh my. She's got one of those ultimate vitamin pills. Now she's trying to force it into his mouth…..And he's run away. Phooey. I wish I could have talked to him. Now my mum's turning to me….

"Dear, it's 10:50, we'd better get you a seat"

And then I said, "We? No, there isn't a 'we'. I'm going on the train myself, mums don't go into the train and find their little babies a seat. I'll be perfectly fine."

Oh, I loved that expression on her face.

And now I'm dragging all my pink stuff down the corridor of the train. At least I'm trying to. I'm trying to kick my trunk, my umbrella, well, I don't know where I left it, my carpetbag's around my neck, and Sammy is mewing in fear as his cage is swinging madly from my left hand. A boy with red hair just came up, I wonder what he wants…….

Later later, train compartment in the last carriage

Well, I haven't written in you in thirty minutes, and what an eventful thirty minutes they've been. I'd best start from where I left off……

The guy walked up and said "Hi, do you want help?"

And then….What do you think I said, "No, you look like a banana?" Of course I said yes!

So we both kicked my trunk, I carried Sammy, and he carried my carpetbag. Around his neck. He said he thought it to be the height of fashion, and he doesn't know why everybody isn't wearing carpetbags slung fashionably about the neck. I like him, he sure can make somebody feel at ease. Oh yeah, he said this.

"I'm William Arthur Weasley, but just call me Bill."

And I said: "Nice to meet you, I'm Nymphadora Andromeda Margaret Madeleine Katherine Bethany Eliza Muirgheal Violet Mallory Mary Tonks, but just call me Tonks."

I have never seen anybody's jaw drop so low.

Anyway, we were kicking the trunk and chatting, when a person who looked about 15 years old and a lot like my cousin Sirius came into the corridor. At first I mistook him for Sirius.

"Hi Siri….." I stopped as I saw the malicious grin on his face.

"Think I'm my blood traitor idiot brother do you?" he sneered.

"You know, I did," I said "but now I don't so we'll just be leaving now."

"Oh no," he said "I do like little seven year olds, won't you come in?"

"No, we won't" said Bill, "let's go Tonks."

We started to walk forward (still kicking my trunk) when the boy, Regulus, as I now realized, stopped us.

"You two dorks shouldn't come back here, you go up front."

"But the front is full, please let us pass," said Bill

"The back's full of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, don't associate with them."

"My mother was in Gryffindor and my father was in Hufflepuff," I said, "I've got no problem with them."

"Yes," said Bill, "just let us thr"

"Oi, Regulus," said a voice, a familiar one, "picking on these 7 year olds?" I realized it was Sirius. We were saved! "If you want to practice your unforgivables, do it on your friends, will you? They all deserve it."

Regulus, who was smaller than Sirius, scowled and closed the door of his compartment.

Sirius eyed me and said simply, "Nice outfit."

I then remembered what I was wearing

"My mum picked it out"

"Yeah, I figured. You two got a place to sit?"

"No," said Bill.

"I guess you can sit with us then."

"But you're, well, a seventh year" I stuttered

"Dude, Tonks, I'm not Regulus. Come on, and don't smother me in thank yous."

So he led us back to his compartment (we were still kicking my trunk), where James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew were sitting.

And here I am.

And Hogwarts is coming into view.

Oh boy. Dumbledore is probably going to make a big long speech about the protect-ees. I'm not looking forward to this. At least I know Bill, he's exactly my age and he's got to be protected. "The youth are first in priority" his mother said. At least he said she said.

Well, I hope for better days ahead. We've parked at Hogsmeade station. I'm putting you away, and I'm going to obsess over Sammy until I have to get off. Toodle-oo!

**I hope you liked it. It's my very first fic, I'm sorry if it's bad, I don't have ANY experience. Not to blame my experience. If it's bad, it's my fault, because I didn't take it from anybody. Except JK Rowling. Come on, this **_**is**_** fanfiction. Please review, and if any of you like it, I will definitely carry on. Actually, I'll carry on anyway, but if you like it, I'll carry on with more joy in my heart. Oh, some of Tonks' middle names are some of my friend's names, and Sammy is the name of one of my friends' cat. Just if you were wondering.**


	2. How to Ruin Your Headmaster's Robes

**Chapter 2: How to Ruin Your Headmaster's Robes**

**P.S. The title ties in with the plot later in the chapter, in case you were wondering.**

**Enjoy!**

September 1, 1977, small room next to the Great Hall

Ok, I think that this evening was the most embarrassing evening of my entire life. I think that I'll start at the beginning.

So we got to Hogwarts, ok?

"Ok," said a voice on a loudspeaker, "everybody exit the train in a nice orderly fashion, your luggage will be brought separately. However, bring your pets."

"Wow, that's new" said Remus.

"What?" Bill asked.

"Well, in the good old days, they used to bring our pets to Hogwarts for us."

"What's this 'good old days' stuff Remus?" said James, "Geez, 17 years old and already nostalgic."

"Yeah, Remus," said Sirius, "Why do you have to be so mature?"

Then Remus did a hand gesture at Sirius, which was, in my opinion, not really mature at all.

We got off the train, and I landed in a pile of cow dung. Literally, _cow dung!!!_ I mean, there was a big pile of cow dung right at the bottom of some steps that we had to go down. Everybody else just sidestepped it, but no, I had to fall right in it. I felt like I was just going to sit there, shrivel up, and die. But then Bill pulled me up.

"Is it one of your hobbies to sit in piles of poop, or was this some strange, once in a lifetime circumstance?" he said.

I eyed him scrupulously, "No, every day in my spare time I just love to shovel dung into great heaps and jump into them! It's so much fun, and it's good for your skin!"

"That was sarcasm right?"

"No, I was serious."

"That was sarcasm, right?"

"Of course I'm not being sarcastic."

"That was sarcasm, right?"

"Of course it was sarcasm you idiot!"

"Oh, ok."

He really is an idiot, don't you agree?

Anyway, so I was covered in dung, (why would cow dung be at a train station, anyway?) and we were walking to the carriages, when I tripped and landed in mud. And then I got up again. And then we got to the carriages. And then I got in. And I ended up on the floor (it was a really full carriage!) It really smelled, so I yelled, "It smells down here!"

"You smell it shouldn't seem so bad!" yelled some humongous weirdo. I kicked his shin. And now I've got a humongous bruise on my forehead that can be described in one word:

OOOOOWWWWIIIIEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Seriously, it still hurts! Badly!

So I was stuffed in this smelly carriage, I was already smelly, people's smelly feet were stuffed in my face, and somebody's smelly cat was hissing at my face. And then I remembered:

"ARG!!!! I FORGOT SAMMY!!!!!!"

"Shut up! We don't care about this stupid 'Sammy'"

I kicked him again. I hope it hurt.

So I was basically sobbing over Sammy, I was covered in dung and mud, I had a bruise on my forehead, I was on a smelly floor, and I had made an evil enemy. The carriage got to Hogwarts and everybody started filing out, their minds full of roast turkey and Yorkshire pudding. Mine was full of Sammy.

"Bill, are you thinking of Sammy?"

"Well now that you've mentioned him I am."

"Well, we need to go back and get him."

"Beg pardon?'

"He's at the station, you idiot"

"I'm not an idiot!" (Yeah, right)

"Well now you are! Come on, we've got to walk back to the station and get Sammy!"

And then he said something really kind. Then he wasn't an idiot, at least in my mind. In Mr. Coulsini's he is. But I'll get to that later.

He said: "You go to the feast; I'll go and get Sammy."

Isn't that just so nice?

So he walked back to Hogsmeade (that was just so nice), and I went up to Hogwarts. Then I remembered my pink robes, and that I was adorned in cow turds. Oh well, that actually doesn't seem all that important now. (Can you believe me?)

So I caught up with everybody else and I was about at the marble steps heading into the castle, when I was grabbed by the scruff of the neck by Hagrid, the gamekeeper.

"Thi' way, yer suppose' ter be over 'ere" he said.

He led me to a little patch of grass right next to the steps where about a half dozen people were scattered.

"Righ', yer all suppose' ter be the protected people of some sor' righ'?"

Well, nobody said anything except for some really bold boy, he looked like he was about nine, he said, "Yes, we are," sort of loudly.

"Righ'" said Hagrid, "I'm gonna take roll, when yer hear yer name, yer say 'ere"

Everybody nodded, except for that bold boy, who said "Yes, I understand your instructions." He really is bold.

"Arigh', Rudyard John Appleton."

"Here" said a smallish boy with brown hair in a bowl cut.

"Hannah Abigail Barnacle"

At this point, several people sniggered. I felt very sorry for this barnacle person.

"Here," said a very small and skinny girl with sandy hair.

That bold boy said, "Hey Barnacle, where are you from, the Mediterranean or the Atlantic?"

At that point, I felt like hitting him in the face. But I didn't. I _do_ have _some_ self control.

And then he said, "EEEEWWW, it smells out here!"

I gulped. "That would probably be me," I said. Best get it over with.

"Why are you brown?" asked some boy I didn't know.

"Er, well, there was sort of some dung at the station, and, well, I sort of fell in it. And then there was some mud, and I sort of fell in that too."

"Well, I'd suggest that yer go 'n rinse off in the lake," said Hagrid, "but it's cold, so…."

"I'll live," I said. _Hopefully_ is what I was thinking.

And then we started taking roll again

"Christopher Eric Fuvvle"

"Here" said a boy with a heavy Irish accent

"Walter Edward Johnson"

"Here" said the boy who asked me why I was brown.

"Steven Daniel Smith"

"Here," said that evilly bold boy.

"Nymphadora Andromeda Margaret Madeleine Katherine Bethany Eliza Muirgheal Violet Mallory Mary Tonks"

"Here," I said.

Then that evil Steven said "Ha ha, stupid name means stupid person! Ha ha!"

Then I said, "Then it sucks to be you, because your mother must have been on a sugar high when she named you; what kind of name is Steven?"

I'm bad at comebacks. At least I must be, because he laughed really hard. _Really_ hard.

"Alrigh' stop yer laughin' we're gonna continue," said Hagrid, "Celestina Warbeck"

"Here," said a snobby looking girl

"Latonya Warbeck"

"Here," said a girl who looked exactly like that Celestina person. They must be twins.

"An' lastly, William Arthur Weasley."

No answer. I started to get a sinking feeling in my belly. Bill wasn't back yet.

And then he came.

"Oy, Rubeus, I found this young wanderer in Hogsmeade. He was looking for a cat."

I turned around with a feeling of dawning apprehension.

There was a tall man with a droopy mustache in front of Hagrid, with his arm around Bill. He had a top hat and tails on, yet when I looked down, I saw he wore hiking boots. Then I realized: this was a famous old Auror named Kenneth Coulsini, who was known for creeping up on unsuspecting pedestrians and whispering random superstitions in their ears.

Bill looked up at Coulsini, and then said to me, "Here's Sammy."

I ran up and took Sammy's cage which was dangling from his fingertips.

Then Coulsini said, "Right, I'll just leave and go back to my post. Remember kids: Stay alert, and May born witches marry Muggles!!!"

There was an awkward silence.

Everybody was still standing there watching the silhouette of Coulsini disappear, when Professor Dumbledore came running down the steps. "Rubeus, are the protect-ees ready? They need to come in, they ar"

And then (I had started towards the marble steps) ran right into him. I was covered in mud and cow turds, and I ran straight into him. And you know what? His robes were purple velvet. Then under them, he had a silk shirt and silk pants. His hat, which was made of purple velvet with 24 carat gold trim and pure diamonds (decorations, obviously), landed in a big puddle of mud. And it sank. And we couldn't get it out. I'd say the entire outfit together was worth about 500 galleons. And I completely ruined it.

Great way to start the year, huh?

Of course, Professor Dumbledore said it was no big deal, but it was. Right now he's probably sitting up in the amazing golden Head's chair all covered in mud, his spectacles askew.

We walked up the steps, and then we were led into this little room. Now McGonagall is telling us to come into the Great Hall. Oh boy. Speech time!

**Ok, I hope you liked it. I'll try to update soon! Please review! Oh yeah, I think I enabled anonymous reviews, but if somehow it's slipped past my virtual fanfiction fingers, please go to my profile and private message me to let me know. Just in case, you know? Reviews make me feel warm and fuzzy, and May born witches marry Muggles (I love that character. He might be coming in more.) **


	3. Who Wears a Wig?

_**Who**_** Wears a Wig?**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter-icus Own-icus!!! (pause) Do I own him yet? sigh Poop.**

September 1, 1977, Great Hall, Gryffindor table

Wow. Professor Dumbledore is, well, a bit insane. But nice. Guess what? He didn't do a speech! I'm squ--wait, what am I saying? I haven't filled you in with all the nice juicy news. Yay! Oh, and the juice that's in the news is apple juice, because it's really yummy. Ok, I'm going to tell you the apply news!

Professor McGonagall said, "Alright, everybody into the Hall, you're going to stand near the first years. Oh, for heavens sake!"

I noticed she was looking at me.

"Girl, why are you covered in mud? Evanesco!"

My clothes were clean! Yay! But now they were pink.

We walked in a line into the Great Hall. I nearly sank through the floor. Everybody was staring at us! Silly-looking second years, thick-looking third years, funny looking fourth years, funky-looking fifth years, singing sixth years (ok, they weren't singing, but I could have sworn I heard one humming the song "raindrops keep falling on my head" by some Muggle), and swearing seventh years (honestly, the language some seventeen year olds use!) were all gazing at us incredulously as we shuffled down to the front of the hall. There there were a bunch of frightened first years. I felt very sorry for them. To think of being put somewhere that could change the entire course of your life! Oh, the scariness!!

Flitwick came through a small door (so small, it was his size!) with a three legged stool and a very battered looking hat. He placed them in front of the first years. I noticed that some first years were eyeing that hat very warily. I was about to ask Bill why when my question was answered before I could even open my mouth. Because the hat had opened _its_ mouth! And it began to sing:

_I know that I am ugly,_

_But don't you dare despair_

_Although you could disagree,_

_There is no better cap_

_To place on the nicest hair_

_For I am not for everyday wear_

_My name is the Sorting Hat_

_So put me on your head_

_And I'll tell you where you'll be at_

_The bravest go to Gryffindor_

_There you must be daring_

_Or you'll not belong_

_The wisest go to Ravenclaw_

_There you'll find that a clever mind_

_Is the best thing you can have_

_Slytherin takes the cunning ones_

_And I know that this doesn't rhyme,_

_But you must willing to go to even fatal ends_

_To carry out what you need, or perhaps you _

_Will not fit_

_And lastly there is Hufflepuff, where you must be kind_

_For if you're not you'll be distraught,_

_and you would not want that._

_So put me on, or just be gone_

_But you would never try that_

_Don't be afraid,_

_For I'm a trusty cap!_

"Who has ever heard of a hat singing a song?" I asked

"I have," said the boy with the heavy Irish accent, Christopher, I think it was, "Me sister's in seventh year. Same as her boyfriend, Ryan Finnigan.

"Geez," said Bill, "You're lucky. I'm the oldest of 3. _And_ my parents want to have _more_.

"_MORE!!!_" said Christopher, "I think she just might have her hands full with 3!"

"Well, they want to have a daughter, so…."

"Oooh, big incentive. Me sister cause me mam so much trouble, sometimes she would just grab her broom and fly away for a couple of hours to get away from the stress."

"Well, my parents want to have a daughter so much, I don't think they'd m—"

"Now, I think we'll begin the Sorting," came McGonagall's voice, "if our lovely protect-ees would give us the honor of being quiet."

We all gulped and were immediately silent. That was really embarrassing. That bold boy, Steven, looked at us like we were barnacles. Then I remembered that girl, Hannah Barnacle. I looked around for her. She was standing near the front with her humongous brown eyes staring at McGonagall. In my opinion, she's too quiet. Celestina and Atonya Warbeck were sneering at her. I glared daggers at them. Poor Hannah.

"Now," said McGonagall, "When I call your name, come up, and place the Sorting Hat on your head, and it will sort you into your proper house. Alexander Nomoncret!"

A boy with dark hair came up and put the hat on his head. A few moments, and then: "Ravenclaw!"

"Marie Bostronse!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Hope Zeller!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"John Ruggellini!" (giggles from the crowd)

"Hufflepuff!"

"Now, before we go on," said McGonagall, "Professor Flitwick made the suggestion that we do not do the names in alphabetical order, so that we can surprise you (I heard a first year gulp) and those poor people whose last names start with "A" don't have to always be first. Now, back to the Sorting.

"Yeah, hurry up, we're starving here!" came Sirius' voice from the Gryffindor table.

"Mr. Black, I would like to remind you that you probably had many goodies on the train—"

"Yeah, those licorice wands were really good" muttered Bill

"—whereas we teachers haven't had any food, and you don't here us complaining."

"I think you're complaining right now."

"MR. BLACK, I AM NOT COMPLAINING, MERELY COMMENTING!!!!!"

"Geez, McGonagall, keep you wig on!"

"MR. BLACK, I DO _NOT_ WEAR A WIG!!!!"

"You know, she's right….." came a voice

"That's Professor Sinistra," said Christopher, "she's the Astronomy teacher."

"Actually," said Professor Sinistra, "I wear a wig."

Well, now I know how loud 1,000 people laughing are.

"Really, Lorena!" exclaimed Professor Vector (I think she teaches Arithmancy), "Some of the greatest mathematicians were bald, you know! Pythagoras was bald! You should proclaim your baldness to the world!"

"Well, I sort of just did……" muttered Professor Sinistra.

"Lorena, you're sort of lucky to be bald," said Professor Dumbledore, "I have to spend 2 hours each day brushing my hair. You just have to put it on!"

"Lorena, maybe you should just walk around bald!" said Professor Vector.

"Wait, _who_ wears a wig??" asked Peter Pettigrew from the back of the hall. More like shouted actually.

"Professor Sinistra, you idiot!" yelled James Potter.

"Oh," said Peter, "literally or figuratively?" (note that this conversation was _very_ loud.)

"Peter, you can't figuratively wear a wig!" said Remus.

"Oh," said Peter, "what does figuratively mean, anyway?"

"Yeah, what does it mean, Remus?" Sirius interjected.

"I'm not even going to tell you."

"REMUS LUPIN, I HAVE GOT A CATTLE PROD, AND I WILL USE IT ON YOU IF YOU DO NOT TELL ME WHAT FIGURATIVELY MEANS!!!!"

"I thought that the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black didn't approve of cattle prods."

"Yeah," said James, "I thought that they liked using irons better."

"Well _**I**_ approve of cattle prods!!!!" And then he pulled a cattle prod out from under the table! A real cattle prod!

"OK, OK, I SURRENDER!!! I'll tell you what figuratively means, onlydon't you _dare_ prod me with that!"

Sirius moved the prod closer.

"ARG! OK, OK!!! Figuratively means doing something that isn't real, it's just in your mind!"

"Oh, ok. I can see clearly now that Remus has been threatened enough to bestow me with information! On with the Sorting, McGonagall!"

Well, this whole time, everybody in the entire hall had been staring at the Marauders. Then McGonagall said, "Ok, um, yes, let's continue the Sorting…."

And so they did. By the end, there were 12 new Ravenclaws, 11 new Hufflepuffs, 7 new Slytherins, and 3 new Gryffindors. Not a very good balance, eh?

Then McGonagall turned to us. "Alright, you know what we are going to do?"

Well, do you think we could see the future? We shook our heads.

"We are going to sort you now! And then when you are eleven, we'll sort you again, since you'll probably be different by then!"

"Ok," said that evil bold boy, "can I go first?"

"For that, you will go last. Hannah Barnacle!" (giggles from the crowd)

Hannah went up to the hat and timidly put it on here head.

"Hmm, strange mind you have. (Hannah jumped) I see that you are very uncomfortable right now, so your mind might be lying. I'm going to put you in the House that seems to suit you best: GRYFFINDOR!!!"

"Walter Johnson"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Rudyard Appleton"

"Ravenclaw!"

William Weasley"

I looked over at Bill. He seemed rooted to the floor, so I shoved him.

"Ah, I remember when I sorted your mother. I expect I'll be seeing quite a few more Weasleys to come, eh? Well, your mind has no lies, even though you were so nervous, you had to be pushed up here. I'll put you in Gryffindor!!!!!"

Bill ran off. James Potter squished over to make room for him. That didn't look comfortable.

"Celestina Warbeck"

"Hmmmmm, Slytherin!"

Wow. No wonder she looked snobby, eh diary?

"Latonya Warbeck"

"Hmm, I can tell that you are twins, but you're so different…….hmmm, better be Gryffindor!!!"

Everybody was silent, and then came Celestina's voice: "ATONYA! We're _purebloods_!!! You can't be in Gryffindor!!"

Then Sirius said: "Yeah I forget your name!!!!!! You're a blood traitor!!! Yeah, you've got your priorities straight!!!!!!!!"

So Atonya went to sit at the Gryffindor table. Sirius squished over to make room for her. It didn't look comfortable.

"Christopher Fuvvle"

"Gryffindor!"

Christopher went to the Gryffindor table. Peter squished over to make room for him. It didn't look comfortable.

"Nymphadora Tonks"

Well, I was so scared, my hair turned white. I walked up to the Hat and put him on.

"Oh yes, I remember sorting your mother. She was wearing as much pink as you are." My face _and _hair turned pink. The crowd murmured. "Your full name is Nymphadora Andromeda Margaret Madeleine Katherine Bethany Eliza Muirgheal Violet Mallory Mary Tonks?" My face _and _hair turned red. "Ok, let's see…….Gryffindor!!!"

I turned my hair red and gold just for fun. You know, people actually laughed.

"Oh, yeah!" yelled Sirius, as I walked to the Gryffindor table, "who's my cousin? Remus, scoot over."

Remus already had.

Well, with James squished against Bill, who's squished against Peter, who's squished against Christopher, who's squished against Remus, who's squished against me, and I'm squished against Sirius, who's squished against Atonya, it isn't comfortable. Now Sirius is trying to read over my shoulder……Wait! Dumbledore's standing up!

"Students," he's saying, "I've got three words to say before we divulge into our lovely feast: Byophyte! Remedial! Stegosaurus! Thank you."

That was weird.

Ooh, lots of food just appeared in front of us! I see some lovely roast potatoes, I think I'll get a scoop. Goodbye! Too bad you can't eat! Sirius is already talking about the desserts. I hope they'll have some chocolate éclairs………OOOHH!!! VEAL PARMESAN!!!!!


	4. I Want to be an Accountant!

**I Want to be an Accountant**

**Ok, that house-elf that's mentioned in the summary is making his first appearance! Yay! Enjoy!**

**(Nice long chapter!)**

**Disclaimer: You know, if I owned Harry Potter, Fred would still be alive.**

September 1, first year Gryffindor dormitory

Golly, those chocolate éclairs were good. The creamy inside was heaven. I wonder who makes them? Ah well, I'm going to sleep.

Later, at about 2 o'clock in the morning

I found out who makes the chocolate éclairs. It's a really weird house-elf. I was sleeping when I felt something tugging at my sheets. Well, I've always been a light sleeper, so naturally, I sat straight up in bed and said, "Who's there?"

"I is only coming in here for nightly duties," came a voice. "I mean no harm."

"Who _are_ you?"

"I is Wubble, miss, the house elf."

"Wubble."

"Yes, Wubble."

"And, what are you doing?" (note that this is all in whispers)

"I is tending the fire, mopping the floor, picking up rubbish, dusting the carpets, puffing up the couch pillows, cleaning up the chocolate éclairs I make-- "

"_You _make the chocolate éclairs?"

"Yes miss."

"They're very yummy."

"Thank you miss!"

"Ok, two things."

"Yes, miss?"

"One, don't call me 'miss'"

"Yes, miss."

"You won't obey that order, will you?"

"No, miss."

"Ok, and second, come out where I can see you."

He obeyed that command. He stepped up onto the bed so I could see him from head to toe. He has ears that are humongous, protruding, and pointy, he has huge feet that stick out in opposite directions, a large wrinkly nose that looks like a horizontal potato, and he's wearing a tea towel like a toga.

"You look, erm, very nice."

"Thank you, miss! They say my son looks just like me!"

Poor son.

"You have a son?"

"Yes, he just turned one year old, and he's walking now!"

"Well, that's lovely."

"Yes, I know!"

"Why don't you get back to your two o'clockly duties."

"Of course, miss."

He's mopping the floor now. I've never seen anybody so intent on his work. Wait, he's saying something, I'll write it down here……..

"If Mr. Dumbledore is paying Yammy and Tammy a Galleon a week, and he is paying each teacher 16 Galleons a week, then this year, assuming that he has planned to spend 2,500 Galleons on the school this year, he will have about 880 Galleons left over by the end of the year, not counting all the little bits and expenses of owning a castle that all add up in the end. So we'll make that 800 dollars. Then there's the question of how much he wants to spend on the seventh year dance, and on Christmas decorations, and of course we can't forget Halloween and Valenti—"

Ok, this guy is creeping me out. I think I'll just ask him what the heck he's talking about. "What the _heck_ are you talking about?"

Whoah, look at that, he's turning purple. Wait, on second thought, make that green. No, red. No, orange. Ok, time for interrogation.

"What was that about?"

He's still orange.

"Answer me!!!!" Ha ha, he'll have to now! Ok, he looks like he's about to say something, I'll write it down.

"Yes miss."

I think I'm going to get that answer a whole lot. Oh, look, he's continuing.

"Miss,"

"It's _Tonks._" Geez, will this ever end?

"Miss Tonks,"

Uurgh.

"I have a dreadful secret."

"Well, spit it out!"

"I is wondering if I should just give it up."

"Of course not!"

He looks surprised. Oops, I'll rephrase that.

"I don't know, actually, what is it?"

"It is, miss,"

"Tonks!!" (I don't think it will end. And I can't believe I'm writing as I talk."

"Miss Tonks, my secret is………."

"Well?" I am never going to get a straight answer out of this guy.

"It is……… I want to be an accountant."

There's a pause happening right now. He wants to be an accountant, eh? This looks interesting, I'm going to put you down. Oh, but have no fears, I'll fill you in later. Boy that sounded cheesy.

A couple of minutes later

That was officially the weirdest conversation I have ever been part of, and that's including when I talked to that hag that was wearing a feather boa in the Leaky Cauldron. I'll start where I left off.

"An accountant?"

"Yes, miss."

"An accountant."

"Yes, miss."

"What kind of house elf wants to be an accountant?"

"My kind, I guess, miss."

"Uh huh. Do your son and wife know?"

"Yes miss, I is teaching my son to manage numbers!"

Poor son.

"Are you sad that you're a house elf?"

"Yes miss, I is. Every day I wish more and more that I be a wizard so I can get a job so I can be an accountant and manage peoples money for them."

Then I had a plan.

"You know, Wubble"

"Yes miss?"

"My mum gave me some money before I left, and I don't know what to spend it on, and knowing me, I think that I'll probably run out soon. You can be my accountant."

"_**ME**_, miss??????!!!!!!!!"

"Didn't I just say that?"

"_**ME**_, your accountant?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!"

"Yes you!!!"

"_**I**_ can be your accountant?!?!?!?!?"

"If you keep on asking me that, you can't."

"Oh miss!!!!!! I is honored!!!!!!"

"Yeah, yeah. I've got 75 Galleons. Each week I'll tell you how much I spend, and you can manage all that's remaining."

He jumped up and down and thanked me ten billion times. I can hear him singing down in the common room…

"_Zip-a-dee-doo-daa_

_Zip-a-dee-day,_

_My new client has just saved my day_

_Zip-a-dee-doo-daa_

_Zip-a-dee-day_

_I've got a client who's voluntary!!!!"_

Wow. It's 2:30 now, I think I'll go to bed.

September 2, 1977, Gryffindor 1st year dorm

Last night seriously creeped me out. What was with that house-elf? Anyway, I need to go down to breakfast and stuff my face.

September 2, 1977, Great Hall, Gryffindor table

Here I am, stuffing my face with bread, jam, marmalade, butter, margarine, cherry turnovers, cereal, apple horns, cinnamon rolls, and raspberry flavored cardboard. (that was a joke!)

Anyway, the mail just arrived and Bill got a letter. He's opening it……….

He's slapping himself now…….again……and again………..and again………and I think he's going to have permanent brain damage if he doesn't stop slapping himself now……

Sirius finally stopped Bill (after like, 20 minutes). And now he's reading the letter.

Sirius handed the letter back to Bill and said, "You're screwed."

What does it say??!!! Ok, I just grabbed it. Hmmmm…….

_Dear Billy,_

_Dearie, this is Mummy, and I've got some important news for you, sweetheart. You see…………………………_

Oh wow, he is screwed.

**Ha ha, I'm so evil!!!!!!! Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!! This is my first cliffie! Ok, now 2 polls, because I'm really annoyed at JK!!!!!**

**I think that:**

**a.)Neville should marry Luna**

**b.) Luna shouldn't marry at all**

**c.) Luna should marry some other Ravenclaw in her year**

**d.) Luna should marry some random dude**

**e.) Luna should marry a dude named Rolf 'cuz that's what JK thinks she should do**

**f.) I really don't care at all.**

**I think that George should marry:**

**a.) Alicia Spinnet**

**b.) Katie Bell**

**c.) Angelina Johnson**

**d.) Another person from the book**

**e.) A Muggle**

**f.) He gosh darn shouldn't marry!**

**g.) Why should I care?**

**I think that Charlie should marry:**

**a.) no one**

**b.) someone!!!!**

**If you can't really figure out why I'm so angry at JK, and why these polls are letting out my anger, go to JK's site, click on the eraser, open the door, and read the family tree. Thank you. Now please, review, because it's the only way you can answer those polls!!!!!**

**Oh, and all you people who've read my story and haven't reviewed, please feel free to. I've enabled anonymous reviews, because I can fully remember when I didn't have an account and wanted to review and couldn't. It stinks, doesn't it?**


	5. Lots of Letters

**Chapter 5**

**Lots of Letters**

**Ok, this is me, Mary Gooby, just telling you before you start that I know I haven't updated since December. I've had a bit of a writer's block. And I've been lazy. And also, if I don't update any of my other stories today, they won't be updated for at least 2 weeks. Probably. I'm in**_**Anything Goes!**_** and I've got rehearsal every day (including Sundays) until Opening Night on Feb. 8. It's going to be so much fun!!!! (Sorry)**

**Disclaimer: I'm not JK! I don't have kids! Yuck!**

**Dedicated to Hannah who just had surgery and can't be in the play anymore. We all really miss you Hannah!! You were great as Serenity!**

**Great Hall, Gryffindor Table, Between Sirius and James 8:41 a.m., Sep. 2, 1977**

I really don't know how Bill copes with this. I mean, really. I'm going to copy down the letter right here……

_Dearest Billy,_

_Darling! Your daddy and I miss you so much! Charlie is ever so bored dear, he says that Percy is no fun to play with! Dear, I need to tell you something: you're going to have another sibling! Isn't that wonderful? I do hope you're alright, my little pumpernickel bread! I packed you some brownies, by the way! They have hazelnuts! Have fun at Hogwarts!_

_Love, Mummy_

Isn't he screwed? Anyway, he's just gone upstairs to his dormitory. I've started eating the brownies. They're really good. I can't believe Bill doesn't want them. He just ignored them.

**What are you writing?**

Sirius, get out of my diary.

**Your diary?**

You know, it's a lot faster to talk to me instead of writing it down.

"It is, isn't it?"

"Much better, thank you."

"You're welcome. Hey James, Tonks has a diary."

James looked up from his food. Oh geez, now he's going to write in here.

**Hello!**

James, talk instead of write, will you?

"Fine."

"Good."

"Hey Peter," (said James) "Tonks has a diary!"

This is never going to end, is it?

**Charms classroom, back of the room between Bill and Hannah Barnacle, 9:26 a.m., Sep. 2, 1977**

I've made a decision! I like Charms!

"You like Charms?"

"Why, Bill, don't you?"

"No. I can't wait until DADA."

"How come you know so much about Hogwarts?"

"Psychic powers!"

"Wow, Bill, you've mastered sarcasm!"

Hannah burst out laughing. "You're funny!"

"Thanks?"

"Are you writing in a diary?"

"Yes." Might as well be truthful with her.

"May I try writing in it?"

"Fine." It's worth a shot, I think I trust her more than Sirius.

**Hello, my name's Hannah. Hannah Barnacle. Mr., I mean Miss Diary, I might seem shy, but I'm not. Not really. One of my friends says I laugh way too much. Like, really too much. There was one time where I couldn't stop laughing, so our teacher sent me outside. I'm able to control my laughing most of the time. I knew this girl who, when she started laughing, she couldn't stop laughing. I mean really, really, couldn't stop laughing. It was really scary, actually. I told her to take a glass of water, but she spewed it all over the floor. Then I started laughing. But I was able to stop. There, I'm done. **

That was funny, what Hannah wrote, about the girl that couldn't stop laughing. One time, I laughed so hard, I squirted milk out of my nose. It felt—

_Hi!_

Bill, you get out of my diary.

_You let Hannah in._

Fine. I guess you can join the club. Hannah might even make badges that say "Diary Stealers"

_I'm borrowing your diary, not stealing it. But on second thought, that might be a good idea. _

Shut up, Bill!

**Great Hall, Gryffindor Table, between Hannah and Atonya, 12:38 p.m., Sep. 2, 1977**

I found a note in my cherry pie. A note! Imagine…….. Oh, it could be from a spy….. or a criminal…… or a person who wants to be my friend…… it could be in code……. It could be in Latin……..

It wasn't in Latin. It was a thank you note. From Wubble. Here it is.

_Dear Miss, _(not Miss again!)

_I is very pleased at your making me an accountant. I appreciate it muchly. I has told my son and he is pleased too. I is hoping that you could come down and meet my family at two o'clock this afternoon? That would be very fun._

_Your accountant,_

_Wubble_

That sounds fun. (heavy sarcasm on that). I just wonder where the kitchen is. I'm going to write Wubble back and ask him.

**In front of a picture of a bowl of fruit in a random corridor near the basements, 1:59 p.m., Sep. 2, 1977**

Wubble said that this is where the kitchens are. He said to tickle the pear. I'd best give it a shot.

I tickled the pear and the picture swung back. Now I can see a big steamy kitchen with about a billion house-elves. Speaking of house elves—

"Miss Tonks!!!!!!!!!!!"

**Was it good? Was it awful? Please review! That includes everybody who reads this story! Anonymous reviews are enabled! I will be very sad if you don't review! **

**Oh yeah, I just realized that I made Celestina Warbeck too young. According to Mrs. Weasley in the sixth book on Christmas Eve, she and Mr. Weasley danced to one of her songs when they were nineteen. So I made a mistake. Now review!!!!!!!!!!**

**Second Dedication: I also dedicate this chapter to SharkiesGirl and kk11819 for being my two most faithful reviewers. Thanks guys, you're awesome!!!**


	6. Getting to Know You

It's taken me ages to update, so here's a big fat sorry: A really long chapter

**It's taken me **_**ages**_** to update, so here's a big fat sorry: A really long chapter!! Hurrah!! I hope you like it because I do!!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. (sob)**

**Dedicated to my best friend, who always uses the words meaniehead, flub, and tubby.**

Chapter 6

Getting to Know You…

**Sep. 2, 7:03 p.m., Great Hall, between Bill and Sirius, eating mince pie**

That is a weird house elf. _Really_ weird. Insane. Mental. _Nice_. I'll just start where I left off, shall I?

_I tickled the pear, and the portrait swung open._

_ "Miss!"_

"Oh, miss, I is so glad you came!"

I was pulled into a crowd of tiny thigh-high elves from Ancient Greece. They were wearing togas!! 

"I is going to show you the best time!" Wublle continued, pulling me through the huge, steamy crowd. "Wait right here!" he squeaked, and dashed off through a door. 

I looked around. I had never been there before. It was about the hugest kitchen in the world. And they h—

**You've never been in the kitchens before?**

Sirius, get _out_ of my diary! This is my story.

**Fine, fine, fine, your majesty…**

Yes! Bow to me, my minion!

Please tell me that groveling is sarcastic.

Ok, back to the story!

So, I looked around the kitchen. The door was behind me. To my right there were four giant tables that looked mysteriously like the four house tables. In front of me, where most of the elves were, was a mile long kitchen, where the elves were cooking supper in dozens of ovens and crock pots. And to my left, there was a ten foot tall fireplace and the door that Wubble had gone through, which said, "Living Quarters". 

Then a house elf that had a nose like a squashed turnip shoved a chocolate cream pie in my face, so I ate it. Then they brought another. And another. After my eighth pie, when I was starting to feel sick, Wubble popped his head in from the "Living Quarters" door and said "Come on, miss, they is waiting!"

I followed him through the hand carved, walnut, unfinished "Living Quarters" door with slight water damage (ok, I was bored, I had to look at something).

Ok, I think this part of the castle has a disillusionment charm on it or something, because I had never seen it before.

**You haven't seen the elf houses?**

Shove off, Sirius! You're trespassing on _my_ diary!

**Your diary's private property?**

Yes! And trespassing on it has a fine of 2 million galleons! Cough up!

**I don't have 2 million galleons.**

Fine, pay me back in ten years, but there's an 8 interest.

**Meaniehead.**

I'm not a meaniehead! Now stop butting into my story!

**Butting, butting, butting**

Well, you're a _fat_ meaniehead!

Oh god.

No, don't cry!

Don't _sob!_

Sirius, you're bawling now.

This is sarcasm.

Ok, I was just teasing!

**So I'm not fat?**

Geez, Sirius, you're acting like a teenage girl.

**Huh?**

You're not fat. You've just got a little tummy flub, Mr. Constellation.

**I hate that name.**

Too bad.

**Meaniehead.**

This is just going to go on forever, isn't it?

**Yup.**

Well, I'm going to break the cycle.

**Meaniehead.**

Stop saying that!

**Meaniehead.**

This isn't even funny anymore.

**Meanie-meanie-head-head.**

I have two heads?

**Mutant-mutant-meanie-meanie-head-head.**

Stop it. Now, finally, back to the story!

So, I went through the door. There were HUNDREDS of log cabins. MINI log cabins!! Chest high. The street names were named after food, like Pizza street, and Kipper avenue. Then there was a street with regular stuff lining it, like a drugstore, a toy shop, and a daycare center. 

"Miss," Wubble said.

I didn't say anything. 

"_Miss."_

"MISS!!"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Come on, miss, we live in the Pasta District."

"Right."

So we walked through all these TINY streets. On the sidewalks there were all these pedestrian elves. There were elves with briefcases, elves with shopping bags, and elves running towards the kitchens, checking the sun to see if they were late. 

I was like, staring at all these elves, so I didn't even notice where we were going, until Wubble said, "Miss, we is at our street."

I looked at the street signs. We were at the intersection of Ravioli Road and Bow Tie Avenue. 

Then Wubble grabbed my hand (or rather, two of my fingers), and pulled me along Ravioli Road. 

It took me a while to register that we were in the suburbs now. Instead of elves with briefcases and shopping bags on the sidewalks, there were little elves playing jump rope and elves pushing prams. 

I refocused on the middle-aged elf dragging me. "What's your address?" 

"We is living at 27945, Ravioli Road, miss. And we're here!"

27945, Ravioli Road was a medium sized house with baby blue curtains in the windows. A little elf face popped up between the curtains and vanished as quickly as it had appeared. I shot a quizzical look at Wubble, but the just said, "Miss, go around back, we is eating in the yard; the house is too small for you!"

I walked around back and sat down in the backyard, which contained a small flower garden and a mini trampoline. Soon, Wubble and two other elves came into view.

One of the elves was clearly Wubble's wife. She was wearing an apron over her toga, and had a matronly face with bright green eyes.

The other was Wubble's son. He was about calf high, and looked about six years old. He had inherited his mother's green eyes, and his father's huge feet. His towel-toga was covered with grass stains. 

"Miss," Wubble said, "this is my wife, Millgle, and my son, Tubby." Millgle curtsied and Tubby waved giddily. 

"Come along, dear, we is eating in the park instead."

"Yay!" screamed Tubby, "the park! I is bringing my soccer ball!"

He ran back in the house and came out with a mini soccer ball. He started kicking it down Bow Tie Avenue. Me, Millgle, and Wubble followed.

"So, Wubble," I said, trying pathetically to strike up a conversation—

**You can't start up a conversation?**

And I suppose you can?

**Yes!**

If singing about pancakes while doing the chicken dance is your idea of a conversation starter, you're sadly mistaken.

**Hmmph.**

"So, Wubble," I said, pathetically trying to strike up a conversation, "how's your family?"

To my surprise, Wubble's ears drooped, and his potato nose seemed to dehydrate itself like spaceman food. "They is not doing well, miss," he said sadly, "not well at all."

I was about to ask why, but we had arrived at the park. 

Wubble laid out the blanket, and Millgle unpacked the food. Tubby started kicking his soccer ball around, and I was still thinking about what was happening to Wubble's family, because it was bad enough to make his nose go from fresh produce to space food.

But then I stopped thinking about that, because guess what? We were having PANCAKES for tea!!

**I don't wanna be a muffin,**

**I don't wanna be French Toast,**

**I WANNA BE A PANCAKE!!**

**Nyah, nyah, nyah nyah—**

Shut it! I don't want to hear your conversation starter!

**But it's a great conversation starter!!**

How?

**Well, dare I say it, some people might not want to be a pancake (but I can't imagine why), so it would bring up a lot of debates.**

Uh huh. 

So we ate the DELICIOUS pancakes, and then Wubble started pushing Tubby on the swings, and Millgle and I sat on the bench.

"Millgle," I finally said, "what's happening to your family?"

Millgle sighed. "They is working for the Malfoys."

"The Malfoys? You mean…"

"Yes, miss. They is kept in at all times and is treated terribly, miss."

"They being…"

"Wubble's sister, Sraecher, and her son, Dobby." She sighed again. "Snuegy is never going to know his cousin. Dobby will work for the rest of his life miss, never allowed any fun or privileges."

"That's awful!"

"Sraecher does everything she can for him. She does the worst chores. She does small things for him, and tries to make him as happy as possible. She even takes his punishments for him. But she's getting tireder. She doesn't have much left. Sooner or later she's going to crack."

Millgle looked at Tubby, who was laughing with glee as his father pushed him higher and higher. "And I is thinking how lucky we is. We is not mistreated. All the elves out there, young elves, elves like Tubby, they is having sad, terrible childhoods. I is wanting to help them, miss. Miss, Dobby has a brother, but…he is gone. Kreacher, he is. The Blacks, cousins of the Malfoys, took him for their elf. He is not right in the head, they say. He does not recognize his mother."

She turned to face me, her eyes full of tears. "You mustn't let that happen to your children, miss. You has to protect them at all costs. You must be willing to do anything for them. Even die." She quickly turned away to wipe her eyes. 

I was about to tell her that having kids was gross, especially with anybody I knew right now. Why would I need to die for my kid anyway? The war wouldn't _still_ be going on when I had kids. If. I can't think of anyone who I want to marry now. Gross. So anyway, I was about to tell her that, but Wubble looked at the sun and yelped, "We is late! Millgle, we is on table setting duty, we need to hurry!"

So, here I am, in the Great Hall, eating mince pie. And that's about it.

**That was depressing.**

* * *

_Getting to know you,_

_Getting to feel free and easy._

_When I am with you,_

_Getting to know what to say._

_Haven't you noticed,_

_Suddenly I'm bright and breezy?_

_Because of all the beautiful and new_

_Things I'm learning about you_

_Day_

_By_

_Day._

--The King and I

"Getting to Know You"

* * *

**Well? This took me about a week to write! It was 6 pages in Word! It's 1,831 words long! Tell me what you think!**

**My favorite ****Year of Ultimate Chaos**** chapter is:**

**a.) My Parents are Annoying Me Out of My Wits**

**b.) How to Ruin Your Headmaster's Robes**

**c.) Who Wears a Wig?**

**d.) I Want to be an Accountant!**

**e.) Lots of Letters**

**f.) Getting to Know You…**

**So answer that poll in your review, and please TELL ME WHY YOU PICKED THE CHAPTER YOU DID SO I CAN TRY AND MAKE MY OTHER CHAPTERS BE MORE LIKE THAT CHAPTER!!**

**Thanks. NOW REVIEW!!**


	7. Some Sirius Psychology

**A/N: Yeah. An update. Finally.**

**Dedicated to theater. Yup.**

**Disclaimer: I hope none of you think I'm JK. I really do.**

**Lots of thanks to everyone who reads and reviews.**

**And I just realized this is my longest chapter yet!**

**And a line means a new diary entry. In this it's not really important when she's writing stuff. **

Chapter 7

Some Sirius Psychology

"Don't cry for me, my martini! The truth is you're really tasty! All through my drunk days, my mad hangovers, I--"

"Sirius, what are you singing?" Remus eyed Sirius over his book, which was called "Charming Charms". I don't know how Charms could be charming, but there you go.

"Don't Cry for Me, my Martini. Duh." Sirius rolled his eyes. "I thought you of all people would know that song. It's from some play. I think it's called Eleanor. Andy-loy-Wedger wrote it."

"Wha--oh." Remus started shaking his head. Then he started hitting it with his Charming Charms book, which I might add, was over 800 pages.

Sirius leaned over to Peter. "I think Remmy's got some head problems," he said in a stage whisper.

"Hey," said Atonya suddenly. "Has anybody seen Bill since he got that letter?"

Remus stopped hitting himself. "No, I don't think I have."

"I haven't," I said.

"Me neither," said Peter.

"Neither have I," Atonya said. "You, Hannah?"

Hannah shook her head. "Nope."

"I haven't either." said Christopher, finalizing the notion.

"WHAT?!" Sirius shouted, making everybody in the vicinity stare. "HE HASN'T BEEN SEEN?"

"Er, yeah, Sirius." Peter said. "He's probably locked in his dormitory."

"NO! I WILL NOT LET HIM DO THIS!! WE'VE GOT TO GET HIM OUT OF THERE!!"

* * *

James snored so loud that the entire common room shook.

"Sirius, please, this is mental," Remus pleaded, his eyes puffy and drooping. "Let us go to bed."

"NO!! We shan't go to sleep. We MUST stay awake!"

It was 4 in the morning. Sirius had gotten it into his head that Bill must sneak out of his dorm at night to get food, so he made us all -- James, Remus, Peter, Atonya, Hannah, and Christopher -- stay down in the common room to try to catch him.

"But Sirius.." mumbled Remus, "We've got an Arithmancy final tomorrow."

"WRONG!" Sirius screamed at the top of his lungs. "I DON'T TAKE ARITHMANCY! IT'S ONLY YOU WHO'S DOOMED! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!"

James slept on.

And Bill never came.

* * *

"ALRIGHT BILL, LISTEN UP!!" Sirius screamed into the Noble and Most Ancient Loudspeaker of Black. "WE KNOW YOU'RE UP THERE! WE ALSO KNOW THAT YOU ARE ACTING BEYOND REASON! COME DOWN HERE IN THE NEXT TWO MINUTES, AND I WILL REFRAIN FROM USING THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HAND GRENADE OF BLACK! YOU HAVE TWO MINUTES!" Sirius put down the loudspeaker and bounced over to the Noble and Most Ancient CD Player of Black (I'd bet 10 galleons there's a noble and most ancient bedpan of Black) and turned on the Jeopardy theme song. At full volume.

James started screeching, "TURN IT DOWN, TURN IT DOWN, TURN IT DOWN!" but Sirius just smiled sweetly and started caressing his hand grenade.

Then as the music was at the final key change, Sirius picked up the loudspeaker and started yelling, "TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ON--"

"AARG, okay, okay, okay, I surrender, just _please_ don't blow me up!" Bill half sprinted, half stumbled out of his dorm.

Sirius put on a pouty face.

"Sirius, why are you sniffling?" Peter asked.

"Because," Sirius snuffled, "I never got to use my hand grenade."

James smirked. "This is why we call him Snuffles."

"Huh?" Christopher said.

Meanwhile, Bill simply stood in his scruffy, too-short pajamas at the bottom of the stairs. He cleared his throat. "So I guess I'll just leave then." He started to trudge upstairs.

Everybody except Sirius froze, but Sirius decided to show off his Beater reflexes (actually, I'm not sure what kind of reflexes they are) and grab Bill by the back of his shirt and yank him onto a weird sofa that looked like it belonged to Bill's Great Auntie Muriel.

"Now, now, Bill, I'm _quite_ sure you'd rather spend the afternoon chatting with us." Sirius was putting on a very forced-looking and almost comical smile that was making Bill look very uncomfortable. Or very questioning of Sirius' sanity. "Now, why did you shut yourself in the dormitory?"

"Bill shifted antsily on the sofa. "Siblings."

Sirius perked up. "Ah..." he said wisely. Or about as wise as Sirius can act. "Siblings, hm? I think you are in need of some professional psychological help."

The look of horror in Bill's eyes is still haunting me.

* * *

"Sirius, you're sure about this?" Remus was looking very worried as he, Sirius, James, Christopher, and I walked down the 7th floor corridor at a pace that Sirius only walked at when he was going to meet a girl, or going to Hogsmeade. Or going to eat candy. Any one will work.

"Of course I am, Remus," Sirius said overly-confidently. "I've got an NBA _and_ a GPA in psychology. I'm a _professional_."

Remus turned green. "I think you mean a Master's degree and a Ph.D."

Sirius eyed Remus oddly. "I'm a Master of Kreacher, not psychology. I've got an NBA and a GPA."

"Sirius, NBA and GPA stand for National Basketball Association and Grade Point Average."

"_No_, they stand for 'Not Bad At (it)' and 'Great Professional At (it)"

"You just keep thinking that, Sirius."

"Thanks, I will."

I, of course, had absolutely no idea where the heck we were going, but when this weird door appeared on the wall of some 7th floor corridor, I got it.

"Oh, this is that Necessity Room!"

Christopher looked astounded. "Me sister told me about this room! She said she found it when she was really upset, and it was stuffed with chocolate!"

Remus' eyes widened. "What kind of chocolate?"

"Um, I think...Hershey's. Yeah."

"Oh. Cadbury's is better."

Then James interrupted. "Right, shut up."--

"We _were_ shutting up"--

"Whatever. Christopher, Tonks, go and get Bill. We'll set up."

We pivoted and and started down the hall. Just as the Necessity Room's door was closing, Sirius' voice drifted toward us: "Why does the couch have to be leather?"

OoOoOoOoOoO

"Please don't make me," Bill pleaded as we frog marched him down the corridor.

"But Bill--" Christopher started

"It's going to be torture! _Sirius_ trying to make me feel better? Even normal psycho-whatsits don't even help, normally."

"Geez, Bill, how did you know that?" I asked. I mean, come on, he's a stupid pureblood, for goodness' sakes!

"My dad likes researching Muggles."

"Whoah. Creepy."

"Ye--NO!"

"What, it's not creepy? He's _researching Muggles_!"

"We're here." Christopher said quietly.

I immediately grabbed Bill's shirt and yanked him to the threshold of the Necessity Room. Or, as the door now read,

**"Dr. Sirius**

**NBA, GPA**

**Professional Family Psychology"**

"What?" Bill said, "My family's not even with me!"

"That shows how smart Sirius is." I said, shoving him in.

It had been transformed. Not that I knew for sure. I'd never been there. But it was always transforming, I guess. Anyway, it had a low ceiling, dark wallpaper, a burgundy carpet, and two lone pieces of furniture: an uncomfy-looking swivel chair, and a big, brown leather couch.

"Whoah," Christopher said, as he walked in after me. "Are psychology places normally this depressing?"

"Apparently," I said, picking up a magazine titled 'Psychology Real Estate' which had a Post It on a page that had a picture exactly like the room we were standing in.

"Sirius isn't here," Bill said quietly, making us both jump. "Maybe he forgot!"

"No, I'm sure he just forgot something. He'll come back in a minute. Why are you so scared, anyway?" I jumped onto the couch and hugged one of the pillows, looking at him intently.

"He's going to do weird things to my brain," Bill said whitefacedly. "He's going to make me go loopy like him."

"Well--"

Before I could answer, the door crashed open, with Sirius standing on the threshold. Except, he didn't look at all like Sirius. He had put on a fake pair of glasses and a suit. _And _he had dyed his hair gray.

"Alright," he said.

We all flinched. He had turned his voice all nasally.

"Will the client lie down on the couch, and will the others go into the waiting room."

_WAITING ROOM??_

"_WAITING ROOM??_" we all said at the exact same time.

"Yes, the waiting room. It is located through that door." He pointed at a dark mahogany door opposite the one that led back into the corridor. I had never noticed it before.

Remus cleared his throat and ushered everybody but Sirius and Bill out through that door.

My eyes bugged out when we walked in. It was like, a real waiting room. The boring, outdated magazines, the grayish bluish boring chairs, the odd, sappy pictures of puppies in baskets, even elevator music playing in the backround.

We all looked at eachother and sat down.

"So..." Peter said, pathetically trying to start conversation.

Everybody just looked at him.

He gulped. "Never mind."

We all just sat there feeling very awkward. Until--

"HA HA!" Sirius' fake nasally voice drifted through the door. "EXACTLY RIGHT! YOUNGER SIBLINGS DO NOTHING BUT SKULK AROUND IN THEIR ROOMS AND BECOME OBSESSED IN THEIR OWN LITTLE WORLDS! THEY ALSO TRY TO BE AS HANDSOME AS YOU AND FAIL DISMALLY!"

"Um, right." Christopher said.

No more Sirius outbursts came, until it was over and he said, "Alright, client's friends may come in now."

We all shuffled in, silently questioning Sirius' sanity.

He opened the door to the hall and bowed us out. "Thank you, come again." he kept saying, until we were out of earshot.

We all walked through the halls and down some staircases.

"So." I said, breaking the silence. "How was it, Bill?"

"Erm." Bill started.

"Yes?" Remus said. "Come on, did he make you go loopy like him?"

"Hey," said Christopher, "how did you hear that?"

"All of us were standing outside the door, eavesdropping."

"Oh. So, Bill?"

"Uh," Bill said, "It was interesting. But you know?"

"What?" Peter said.

"I think it really did help."

**A/N: Ok, that was it. For anyone who cares, I'll try to update Ten Things About this weekend. And Bill and Charlie this week. Not that any of you care, necessarily.**

**OMG, I'M SO EXCITED! BREAKING DAWN IS COMING OUT TODAY! I'M SO GOING DOWN TO BORDERS AND GETTING IT!!**

**Sorry. Now, if you could please drop me a line and tell me if you liked it? And if you're subscribed but don't normally review, could you drop me one line and just tell me if you're reading it and if you like it? That would be great. Thanks. Now, press that lovely little button that says "go"!**


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